Alice and I

[Silent Smile]

The bed is cold. Mama, the bed is so cold. I can feel it in my teeth, in my spine. It's running through my toes and numbing my fingers. I can taste it with my tongue. My stomach is contracting from the cold. Mama, the bed is very cold. But it's not like ice. It's dark and bubbles into my soul. It sticks onto me like glue, and then it's just there. But Mama, it doesn't go away. The cold is there. It's always there. Mama, it's the cold of death.

I look at him sadly. "It's not death, honey," I say. "They just turned the air conditioner on. It must be hard to tell, with all those blankets on." But I know that I'm lying. I lie to myself all the time.

I can tell. I'm not dying yet. Soon, I think, but not yet. I still miss you. I'm still brave. There's still sparks of hope crackling here and there, like a campfire. The sparks warm me for a moment, but then the cold fills the empty space. The cold, Mama, the cold wants me to suffer. But I still want to fight it. So I keep hoping. And the hope keeps sparking.

I try to smile. "Good," I say. "It's always important to have hope." I think he can see what my words are masking, what I'm leaving unsaid.

There was once another person on this bed. Mama, I know there have been many, but this person never left. Mama, they're still laying in this bed. They're speaking to me, and I can understand them. Mama, I'm not crazy. It's not the fever. The doctor said the fever was gone, didn't he? Why are you looking away? Mama, I can't understand when I'm older, because I'm not going to be any older.

"Of course you are," I tell him. "We're going to have your birthday party at the pumpkin patch, remember?" I know what he means, but I pretend not to.

But Mama, the person who died. Were they my age? Or did they get through elementary school? Mama, do you know who died here? Does the doctor know who died here? Because I have to know. I have to thank them with their name.

"A dead person is fine without their name being said," I tell him. "Just be polite and thank her."

They're warning me, Mama. The cold isn't mine, it isn't the bed's. It's the person who died here. They're alone, and they're warning me that I'm going to come with them, with a cold of my own. They're saying that the cold is comforting for them. I'm ready for my own cold, but I won't leave until I know. Mama, what is their name?

"Honey, nobody's there. And you aren't leaving yet." I watch the floor become out of focus through the tears on my eyes.

They really are there, Mama. Please listen. I know that they're there, because they're speaking. Their voice is… is a girl's. Mama, it was a girl who died here. Please, ask the doctor what her name is.

"How will the doctor know one girl's name?" I ask him. "Don't worry about her, just go back to sleep."

The cold… Mama, please hurry. I can feel the cold on my mind. Mama, the cold is closing in on me. She can't tell me her name, I need you to ask. Hurry!

I walk out of the room and ask a doctor. He says he doesn't know anything. I go back and tell him that the doctor knew nothing about her death, and it was probably a mistake.

I'm not wrong. You asked the wrong doctor. Someone did die here. She's kind, Mama. She's trying to warn us. Oh, the cold. I can feel it in my skull. I need her name. I need her name…

I watch him. More tears come. Why him?

Mama, if I die, don't feel bad. I'm happy. I've done a lot with my life. I would've done more, but that's not what I'm being given. I just have to know… her name… If I know, then my life will be full.

"Elizabeth," I say. I heard a doctor say her name was Elizabeth."

Elizabeth? She says you're lying. She says that nobody cares about her, they all treat her this way. Please, Mama, what's her real name? I just want to thank her. What do I call her?

I leave again. As I'm walking around, asking, a man comes up to me and tells me all about her. The girl is real…

See, Mama? I told you someone died here. The doctor said her name was Alice. She says that doctor was telling the truth, and she knows the doctor. Mama, Alice wants me to thank you, because she wanted to hear her real name again.

"Tell Alice that I was happy to please her," I say. Then my eyes flick up to the heart monitor. No, not yet…

Mama, what's… that beeping?

"It's your video game. You're beating your brother by a mile." Not him…

The cold…

"The window's open. But isn't the fresh air nice?" Not here…

It's on my mind now…

"Too many popsicles will do that." Not this way…

But…

Wishing does nothing.

Alice is… waiting…

Alice?

For…

Yes… Alice…

Me…

"Take care of him, Alice," I whisper.

[nostalgiatech]

that is so sad... but good writing.

[Moriarty is King]

L.L.L.L.LOVE IT!